


Somewhere Only We Know

by Amonae



Series: Holiday Gifts 2016 [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Demon!Steve, Exorcisms, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Possession, Pre-Relationship, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9514439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amonae/pseuds/Amonae
Summary: Steve comes back from battle acting strangely and Tony takes it upon himself to find out what the Hell is going on.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepyoceanprince](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sleepyoceanprince).



> For [sleepyoceanprince](http://sleepyoceanprince.tumblr.com/), thank you so much for being an A+ internet friend this past year. Though I wasn’t _entirely_ sure what the heck to do with this prompt… I hope I did it justice.
> 
> In case you forgot, your prompt was exorcism.
> 
> Thank you so much to [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism) and [robin_tcj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robin_tcj) for taking a look at this and making sure I haven’t lost my spooky vibes!

Something was wrong. With _Steve_. 

Okay—maybe not wrong—but definitely _off_ , because Tony had never, in all his history with the Avengers, managed to get away from the scene of a battle without either a serious “talking to” or massive clean-up detail. But Captain Spangles had been mysteriously calm over the comms, not a single retort sent in Iron Man’s general direction as he took off toward the tower. Tony had been so relieved not to have to deal with the clean up on the villain-of-the-week (some kind of abomination that could both phase through walls _and_ cover everything it touched in corporeal slime), that he didn’t pay it too much mind. He really just wanted the longest shower of his life, a few dozen hours locked away with something to tinker at, and to hide from the world’s longest disapproving stare for bailing on the aftermath of the battle. 

He’d been in the workshop for at least seven hours—more than long enough for the rest of the team to have finished up and returned to the tower—but there was still no sign of Cap.

Something was definitely up.

Tony shoved away the circuitboard he’d been finagling with, rolling back in his chair and bringing up the surveillance monitors with a wave of his hand. The rest of the team had gathered in small groupings around various parts of the tower, but Tony couldn’t spot Steve on any of the images. He frowned, brows creating angry furrows as he flipped through camera panel after camera panel until he finally found the man in question.

“Well that’s… interesting.”

He leaned back in the chair, tilting his head and watching the timestamp roll forward as though there were nothing wrong with the image. But there was definitely something _wrong_ with this particular frame. Downright creepy, if Tony were being honest with himself. 

After sifting through all the other cameras, he’d finally resorted to breaching Steve’s privacy by taking a look into his quarters. And sure enough, there he was, just… not doing anything. Steve was standing stock-still in the middle of his living room, hands hanging loose at his sides, uniform from the battle still clinging to his frame… Yeah, and not doing a whole lot of anything.

Tony sucked in a breath and was about to call up JARVIS, ask him how long the good Captain had been standing there, when there was finally movement on the screen. It was subtle, but it was enough to have Tony’s attention snapping back to the monitor. 

Steve had turned his head, just enough, to stare straight at the camera hidden in the corner.

No, not _at_ the camera—it almost looked like…

Tony felt his blood run cold right around the same time as the video cut out. “Well, fuck.”

\------

“JARVIS, what do we know about exorcisms?”

There was the slightest pause, just enough for Tony to know that the AI was probably silently judging the sanity of his query. “Well, sir, I believe exorcisms are a spiritual practice, normally carried out by a Priest or other religious figure to excise the occupancy of a demon or other malicious spirit from a human host. Shall I recommend some literature? Perhaps a film?”

Tony huffed out an irritated breath. Yeah, JARVIS definitely thought he was off his rocker. He wouldn’t be surprised if the AI was a few seconds from calling Pepper or Rhodey. He switched tactics. “Is Steve still in his room?”

“Captain Rogers has not left his quarters for approximately fifteen hours.”

“Shit,” he cursed, trying to run through his options. They’d dealt with some weird shit, but demonic possession definitely wasn’t featured on the list. And it wasn’t even a _scientific_ explanation. It made way more sense for Steve to be controlled by some kind of nanobot or a series of code words, like the Winter Soldier. But no, that wouldn’t explain the fucking _chill_ that went down Tony’s spine when he looked at the camera.

“There are no such thing as demons or ghosts,” Tony hissed under his breath, willing his mind to get a grip.

“There aren’t?” a voice cut in, all false innocence and too… _light_ to be Steve. But the words had come from Steve’s mouth, where the man lingered a few feet behind Tony. 

Slowly, Tony swivelled on the stool, keeping his face carefully blank no matter how fast his heart was hammering against his ribs. It had only been a few moments since JARVIS relayed Steve’s presence in his suite—there was no way he could have gotten to the workshop so fast. “Hi Steve. I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“A shame, really,” not-Steve started, stepping forward and letting his fingers linger on the surface of the workbench. “Believing is only half the fun.” When he looked up, the brilliant blue of his eyes were gone, replaced with an inky, swimming black.

Tony didn’t manage to stop himself from flinching. “What can I help you with, Cap?” he said, voice not wavering. Much.

Not-Steve clicked his tongue, expression echoing an over-the-top kind of disappointment you might see from a pouty teenager. “Really, Stark. I had expected much more… _action_ from you. You would think it didn’t bother you at all to see your pathetic Captain taken from you.”

“Last I checked, Cap wasn’t a belonging, so, y’know, no ownership,” Tony mumbled, shifting his left hand behind his back just enough to hide it, his fingers starting to sign out a series of code words to JARVIS. “And, I mean, even if he was I don’t think he would really belong to me. The team, maybe, but not me.” His hand shook and froze on the next movement as not-Steve stopped wandering, too close, hovering at Tony’s right side. 

A pale brow raised in question. “Really. Calling the AI for help?” not-Steve said, his voice holding very little inflection to indicate whether he was amused or… not so amused. “Pathetic.”

The movement was so fast Tony didn’t even have time to register it before his left arm had been wrenched behind his back and pressed between his shoulder blades. His chest hit the workbench around the same time as his mind finally caught up with the movement. 

_Well, I’m fucked._

“Tell you what, Stark,” not-Steve whispered, his breath ghosting across the shell of Tony’s ear with each word. “I think I’ll let you guess why I chose this host. You get three guesses, so choose them wisely.” The pressure of not-Steve’s grip on Tony’s wrist tightened. “And if you guess right, maybe I won’t make you hang around to watch him die.”

_Fuck._

Tony’s brain was going a mile a minute, trying to find an alternate plan, a way out of this without creating an even bigger mess. He didn’t know the first fucking thing about demons, why couldn’t this have been goddamned AIM with their nanobots or Hydra with their brainwashing? 

“Tick tock, Stark.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking. Kind of hard when you’re breaking my wrist,” Tony growled. He got a shove for that, feeling the bones in his wrist press and grind.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

This was getting him nowhere, keeping his mind spinning in circles. The damn imposter had started humming something now, a tune that was too upbeat, seemed too out of place for the situation.

“ _Oh simple thing, where have you gone? I’m getting old and I need something to rely on_ ,” not-Steve sang, voice smooth and mellow, close to how Tony had imagined him singing if he’d ever heard him… _oh_. Oh _fuck_.

He _had_ heard Steve singing. This exact song, though he’d been too drunk at the time to pick up on much more than the melody. Clint had pulled out the dusty karaoke machine, insisting they give it a shot, even though they’d all been into the liquor for a few hours at that point. They’d all tried, despite the inebriation, to make some passable attempt at singing. Cap had refused, at first, but closer to the end of the night he’d… he’d gotten up and sang, caught Tony’s gaze and didn’t look away again.

_Fucking god damn it all to–_

“I know,” Tony said, the pressure on his back easing up and the humming coming to an abrupt stop.

“Oh really?” And now that bastard sounded _smug_ of all fucking things. “Do tell, Stark. Why on Earth would I want to take him from you?”

Tony bit back the re-hashed property comment he had on the tip of his tongue, focusing on speaking slowly instead, trying to buy some time. “You think that he means something. To me. By using that, you could take us both down with one shot. Take out the two at the top and the rest of the Avengers will just crumble. Or so you think.”

Not-Steve chuckled, dark and deep, before it spiralled into something more, something so unlike Steve’s normal laugh that it made Tony feel sick. The laughter was enough to make Tony freeze up again, both hollow and cutting, seeping into the centre of his chest and squeezing around his heart. 

“I don’t think, Stark. I _know_ ,” not-Steve said, pressing down again. “And since you won, I suppose I’ll get rid of you first. Maybe pull that beautiful device from your chest, the Captain does seem to enjoy it. He certainly has enough sketches of it. Or perhaps your eyes, there are an awful lot of those too.”

_Fucking, fuck. JARVIS, please tell me you got at least half of that message out._

Tony forced himself to take a breath and speak again. “I don’t know, might take a long time for me to die if you pull out the reactor. Tedious, boring. Lots of gasping and looking generally pathetic. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

“Oh, for you, I have all the time in the world.” Not-Steve pulled Tony upright just enough so he could reach around his chest and get a grasp on the edge of the reactor through his thin tee. Tony’s eyes found his reflection in the window across the room, resolutely schooling all traces of fear from his features. He was just coming to terms with the fact that this was actually happening when he saw a flicker of red in the reflection and then not-Steve screamed and flung him away. 

“You _bitch_!”

“Why, Captain. What language.” Natasha raised a brow a fraction of an inch, small glass bottle still half-full in her hand. She made to toss it at not-Steve and he lunged to avoid it before rushing forward, face twisted in a scowl. There was the tiniest hint of a smile on Natasha’s lips before she moved into action, limbs moving in a flurry. The whole workshop shuddered when not-Steve hit the floor, unconscious.

“Fuck,” Tony hissed, picking himself up off the floor gingerly. “Glad to see you got my memo, Widow.”

“Got the bit about Steve being a demon. Not quite sure about the rest, since that part already seemed fairly insane,” she answered, tossing him the bottle. “Holy water. Hang on to that.” She turned on her heel and headed to the door of the workshop.

“Hey, woah! Where are you going?” he shouted, clutching to the tiny bottle and looking to Steve’s prone form. Yeah, like the water was going to be a hell of a lot of help if he woke up again and went all demonic super-soldier on his ass.

“I assume the second half of that message was about finding a Priest who can perform an exorcism?” she asked, raising a brow at him.

“Oh. Yeah. That.”

“I happen to know someone. I’ll be back with them as soon as I can.”

“How long?”

“It’s quite the trip to Rome, these days.”

“Wait, what?!” She was already walking away as Tony shouted after her. “Nat! God damn it, Natasha!”

 _Fuck_.


End file.
